groovy pushpin hereafter

 

when the song ends neut holsters

his threadbare acoustic revolver,

the sonic button man healer of our

hallowed harebrained trinity. i rise

and we embrace as moa blesses

us with witness. our sacred heart

fields voltron into a blue dewdrop

matrix. we return to the field of the

warrior to confront a confounding

of constellations layered in an

endless bloom of rotating arrays. i

rearrange a handful for a milk and

honey breath of roses in a groovy

pushpin hereafter. we stand open

throated under this vast celestial

carousel of impeccably ordered

chaos. i stutter as conductor our

cubic centimeter, moa gets sick

with distraction, and neut catches

cold in his marrow. this chance i

pluck without pause, invite moa to

neut’s right, place myself parallel

his left. our temperature rises and

neut ponders aloud if we could

increase it’s intensity with intent

alone. no sooner than this notion

parts his lips, we catch fire. we

burn over an eon below a glowing

unidentified airshow. moa steps

free from the tin foil furnace and

plays neon fetch with pax for a

spell. in a whip crack of wind we

abide the invincible pull of the

universal vaudeville shepherd’s

crook to the backstage shelter of

the camper’s castle walls. inside

we spill over holy grails of

laughter as uncontested kings of

immaculate mirth. driftless into

royal hysterics, we hot potato tidal

bouts of six pack fits. recovering

composure, we astral project and

drunken monk marionette our

bodies to the hot future sauna.

we reenter our vessels and

arrange our puzzle. neut takes his

place at the podium in our sacred

court of ancestral equity as the

conduit preacher of the spirit. a

waterfall sermon for the other

unconditional choir of his forever

peanut gallery of gallows

bedfellows. we construct a crude

slingshot from the salvaged inner

tube rubber of a fallen black

helicopter tire tied between a pair

of matchstick maples. we go out

dutch, firing ourselves into the

divine unknown.